


Little Red Riding Hood: Stiles and The Wolf

by tokidoki_smile



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Laura Hale, Alpha Laura Hale, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Derek Hale is a Softie, Derek Hale is bad at flirting, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff and Humor, Injury Recovery, Kinda out of character, Love at First Sight, M/M, Meddling Laura Hale, Minor Injuries, Oblivious Stiles, POV Alternating, freeform(i think)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-23 11:17:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14331312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tokidoki_smile/pseuds/tokidoki_smile
Summary: Making his way home late, Stiles takes a shortcut that takes him through the woods. There he meets a curious creature in need of his attention (he meets wolf Derek).





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There is probably a million of these already out there, but what the hey, let’s make it a million and one ;P I’m breaking a ton of canon rules on top of it, so… yeah, it’s just a complete trifle I wrote for fun. I love the idea of their first meeting, and I wanted to have Stiles use the lines form Little Red Riding Hood, I so truly believe had he met a wolf he would have said them.
> 
> The characters are probably terribly OOC but, oh well again.
> 
> Also, I kind of wish Laura had lived. I mean, she didn’t even have one episode where she wasn’t a corpse.

 "The quickest route between two points. Is a straight line." Stiles mumbled to himself. The moon hanging bright and full on his left.  The woods were quiet, except for the crunch of leaves and debris under his sneakers.

His jeep had broken down and he found himself walking everywhere he needed to go, like in freshman year. Not the way he’d planned on starting his sophomore year, but here he was. He zipped up his red hoodie and jammed his fists in the pockets.

He knew the path, it was a well-traveled shortcut, it didn't make it any less ominous in the night time, alone. He slowed his gait as he came slowly upon the ruins. Creepy enough in the daylight; the charred skeleton of the grand mansion loomed from amongst the surrounding shadows, like a bad memory.

He stood, staring at it. It was the biggest tragedy in Beacon Hills. The fire that destroyed the structure and decimated the Hale family that had occupied it. The faded red door stood open, like a gaping mouth. The house, succumbing to the elements, as though it were being it eaten alive by the forest.

He sighed and turned to leave when he heard distinct clicking, he turned back and from the darkness of the entry way he saw two shinning orbs; eyes. His whole body froze. The eyes were too low to be human, and the clicking- definitely claws.

His heart was hammering in his chest. He started backwards, slowly step by step.

"My, mister wolf, what bright eyes you have..." he murmured swallowing hard.

The large mound that was the black wolf, moved slowly. Emerging from within the house and moving smoothly down the steps. The wolf bared its teeth, a growl rising low in its throat.

"My, mister wolf, what big teeth you have..." He wheezed, feet carrying him backwards step by unsteady step.

Stiles knew, this close, there were zero viable options for escape. So, he didn't move, fighting that terrified instinct to look the beast in the eyes. He tried to focus on something, on anything else, he lowered his eyes and focused on its massive clawed paws.

It didn't help. He shut his eyes tight.

"My, mister wolf, what sharp claws you have..." He wanted to stop, really, he did. His heart was racing, and his mouth was completely running on its own.

The black fur glimmering in moonlight caught his interest. It was wet, was it water? He focused as hard as he could his mind reeling through all likely possibilities. There was no water nearby, no rain in weeks, blood. Blood!? Who's blood?

The wolf stepped forward and staggered. His super-sonic thoughts struck their conclusion, like a head shot in COD; the animal was wounded.

"H-hey, mister wolf," Stiles smiled, trying to make his voice as light and nonthreatening as he could, despite the waver of fear in his voice. "Do you, n-need a hand?"

He chanced it and glanced up to the wolf's eyes.  The glowing sapphire orbs seemed, knowing, interested. It limped toward him, closing the distance. Stiles couldn't help retreating again. There was no way the wolf understood, it was moving in to attack. Suddenly, the wolf lunged forward, his back struck the wide tree trunk he had forgotten was there.

The boy’s honey, colored eyes snapped wide for a millisecond, before they shut tight. The cocktail of chemicals that shot through the boy’s system in his wake was intoxicating. Primal; excitement and fear. The familiar kick of adrenaline, norepinephrine and cortisol. Caused him to lick his lips.

Stile’s body shuddered, but there was nothing. No teeth sinking into the soft flesh of his belly, or thighs. Not even a sound.

He opened his eyes and his mouth fell open. A man stood in front of him. A naked, bleeding man. Stiles shook his head, raking his eyes over the man’s body and back to the man’s rugged face. Shinning blue eyes faded to a steel blue. He recognized the face under the thin scruff. Derek frikin’ Hale, he was a few years older, but it was definitely him. His face felt hot, the guy seemed totally comfortable naked, but with a body like that, why would you want to cover it up? Stiles swallowed, nervously, attempting a casual smile.

They stood there until it dawned on Stiles that Derek was indeed in need of his help. He just wasn’t going to voice it.

“Help?” He yelped. “Right!”

He sidestepped and swung his backpack off his shoulder and stopped.

“Hmm… You don’t have any pants?” Stiles asked, as casually as possible. Derek looked at him unamused. “Okay, no, that’s fine. I’m cool with it if you’re cool with it.”

“Am I distracting you...?” Derek asked coolly; stretching out teasingly.

Stiles eyes went wide, and he pressed his lips into a tight flat smile.

“Stiles.” He croaked motioning to himself, with a lopsided grin. “Me? Distracted? Oh no, no, not one bit. These eyes, man, this mind! Is like the Superlaser on the Death Star!”

Derek nodded, amused by the hammering in Stiles chest and the rush of his uneven breathing. He turned and gave him some space. Stiles, sighed taken with the view for a second as he rummaged for something he’d be able to use in his backpack. He paused and glanced over at Derek standing on the landing. He surveyed the damage, the worst were the four, bloody, perfectly parallel slash marks across his ribs under his right arm. The other was his noticeably slumped left shoulder, definitely dislocated.

“Alright.” Stiles sighed finally. “Let’s see what I got.”

From his backpack Stiles drew out a notebook, a semi clean white shirt, a half empty water bottle and a roll of duct tape.

“That?” Derek called, Stiles looked up.

“Yeah,” Stiles replied. “I saw something like it on TV, it’ll work.”

Derek sighed, giving him the go-ahead.

Stiles approached, his arms loaded with his supplies as he climbed the steps and followed Derek in to the house.

The inside of the house was charred and black, even more than the outside. The wooden boards creaked under his steps as he followed Derek into the destroyed living room.

He was sitting on a half-burnt sofa.

“Use these,” Derek called passing Stiles a stem of white flowers. Stiles looked at him his arms full already and Derek held the flower as Stiles settled on his right. Dumping his armload onto the couch.

“So,” Stiles began tearing the shirt into strips. “Did you get too close to someone’s sheep?”

Derek stared at him.

“No, Not funny, sorry.”

“Caught wind of a weird report. Came to investigate it with my sister.” Derek explained as he glanced down, Stiles poured some water onto a strip of shirt. “Got caught off guard by it, Laura, my sister lured it off.”

Stiles nodded, licking his lips nervously.

“This might sting,” Stiles warned meeting Derek’s eyes. He nodded and raised his arm to give Stiles better access to the wound.

Stiles’ sighed sharply not sure what to expect, as he reached over slowly. He jumped suddenly, as Derek’s heavy hand landed on his shoulder. Stiles didn’t say anything as his heart slowed from the initial surprise.

Once the blood was off, he could see the wounds were not that deep. Given the location though, it wouldn’t have taken much more to have slashed through his ribcage and all the vital things there.

“What’s the flower do?” Stiles asked as he threw the last bit of bloody shirt aside.

“It’ll help it heal, if these are Alpha wounds.” Derek replied.

“Alpha?”

“Yeah, a bigger, badder wolf.” Derek replied. Stiles eyed him nervously as he took the flower. “Use it when you bandage the wound.”

Stiles followed his directions, using the last of the t-shirt as a gauze, and the paper as extra padding for the makeshift bandage. Derek held it in place as Stiles used the duct tape to secure it to Derek’s side.

“What’s the duct tape for?” Derek asked curious, Stiles grinned.

“You ever seen my jeep?” Stiles joked, he paused realizing that was unlikely. “Well, it’s held together by prayers and duct tape, mostly duct tape.”

Derek smiled, he smiled back. It suite him, seemed to soften his face.

“Alright,” Stiles called getting to his feet. “Let’s take a look at your arm. This one, is going to hurt.”

Derek scoffed, as he watched Stiles rise to his feet.

“Get a lot of dislocated shoulders?” Derek asked as he watched Stiles switch to his left.

“Me? God no!” Stiles laughed.

“This,” He proclaimed motioning to his body. “Is a vessel of knowledge, not violence.”

Derek rolled his eyes.

“My buddy Scott on the other hand? He’s into this thing called lacrosse, pretty physical sport you know,” Stiles continued.

Derek nodded as Stiles put his hand on Derek’s left shoulder, at that he flinched. Stiles tried not let his smile show.

“Alright. Let’s get this fixed. Shoulders back.” Derek stared at him. “Please?”

Derek rolled his shoulders back and sat straight. Stiles ran his hand down Derek’s firm bicep as he positioned his arm elbow bent at a perfect 90-degree angle slightly into Derek’s side.

“Need you to relax.” Stiles whispered soothingly.

Derek looked down at him, he could feel his steady heartbeat, he wasn’t nervous about this. Not like the other wound. Stiles large left hand gripped his bicep tightly, surprisingly strong for such a skinny guy. Stiles took Derek’s hand in his, palm up, warm and steady as he began turning it out slowly.

Derek hissed. Stiles’ grip tightened.

“Relax, this isn’t even the hard part,” Stiles called and Derek’s steel grey eyes flashed electric blue. Stiles’ grip tightened on his bicep as he began, simultaneously, lifting his arm up towards him and guiding his forearm back into his body, so slowly. He felt the bone shift back and then it was done.

Derek exhaled deeply not realizing he’d been holding his breathe.

“Done!” Stiles laughed proudly, jumping to his feet excitedly.

Derek couldn’t help but smile as he rolled his shoulder the ache fading away.

“Don’t get to excited.” Derek snarked bring him down, Stiles stopped celebrating and gawked at him. Suddenly his eyes widened as he dug in his pocket looking for his phone.

“Aw, crap it’s almost 10:30-!” Stiles yelped. “Dad’s going to kill me!”

Derek sat dumbfounded, as Stiles dashed out of the house. Suddenly he heard him running back in and popping his head back into the living room.

"I'll come back tomorrow." Stiles called with a smile, he didn’t wait for a response before he was gone again.

Derek nodded amused.

* * *

 

The house looked deserted, much like yesterday. He’d had to wait for nighttime, since his dad was working late; Wednesday night dinner was one of the few times they were able to have a normal family dinner, or the best they could work out.

He made his way up the creaky landing, somewhat nervously.

He’d told Scott all about it, but really it didn’t seem like he’d believed him. Dismissing it as a vivid dream. Scott, himself had seemed weird, extremely preoccupied by an ache on his side; at the same time, he kept shrugging off any notion of going to the school nurse or his mom.

Stiles sighed, there was no sign of him. No sign of anything. He shrugged the backpack off his shoulder, he’d just leave the bag in case he came back later.

Suddenly he heard a sound from somewhere in the back of the house.

“D- Derek?” He called in a hushed voice as he glanced about the entryway. “Derek are you here?”

He walked slowly, and he couldn’t help feeling like the final girl in a slasher movie, as he tried to make himself small in the creepy house. All the while, every properly firing neuron in his brain was telling him to turn around and just go.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a shape rush toward him, he yelped stumbling back crashing into the wall.

"Why do you keep doing that!" Stiles cried. Body scrunched up between, the proverbial rock and a hard place, located between the wall and Derek's broad bare chest. Though he couldn't say which was which.

Derek observed him quietly, free to do so, with Stiles' eyes screwed shut. The initial tremble having left his body, and the delicious wavering of his heart returning to normal. There was something about this plain, fast-talking, genius idiot. He pried the backpack from his hand and turned, unzipping it to examine the content.

Free of Derek’s immediate presence, Stiles recovered. Exhaling a tense breath. He stood a few steps away, barefoot, clad only in a pair of dark blue jeans.

"A thank you would be nice," Stiles grumbled with a shrug of his lanky shoulders.

"I didn't ask you for help." Derek snarled quietly. No anger, just pointing out an obvious fact.

Stiles looked at him with dumbfounded expression, and he couldn't help but think he wore it well. He pulled the charcoal colored t-shirt from the backpack. It was lightly used, easily mistaken for clean; but it carried the faint warm scent of the boy, Doritos, and the dry smell of books. He smirked as he dropped the backpack to pull the too small shirt over his frame. This would have to do.

He looked over his shoulder at Stiles, still wide eyed and opened mouth, as he suddenly caught himself and wiped the expression from his face with frantic hands. He spun around on his heel to face the other direction.

A smirk on his face, as he watched Stiles try not to stare at him. As a top predator, he was not accustomed to being looked at the way this idiot looked at him: like he was starving, and he was a juicy, medium rare steak.

"So..." Stiles mumbled, "You're a werewolf?"

Derek paused his rummaging to give his question a thought; that didn’t need an answer did it? Then went back to the bag.

“You totally are!!"

Derek had to adjust the ‘duh’ look on his face before he looked back at Stiles, who wore a wide goofy grin.

Derek turned back finding what he was looking for.

"Really?" He asked with a quirked eyebrow.

"Well..." Stiles began rubbing his hand nervously over short shorn hair. "Not like I could bring you a deer. I- I figured you might be hungry..."

Stiles finished gesturing towards the package of beef jerky in his hands.

"Do you know how much sodium is in these?" Derek grumbled.

Stiles, looked surprised. His face growing red.

"Sorry, I didn't think to stop at the Whole Foods! Don't eat it then!" He snapped.

Derek smirked, as he easily tore the top off the package.

Stiles turned back, at the sound. As though, Derek opening the package were some manner of victory. Stiles gave a subtle smirk, as he moved to lean back against the wall next to the closed door.

"Your wounds," Stiles chirped, realizing the bandage was gone. "You're, I mean- of course you're all healed-"

Derek sat down on the stairs as he took a piece of jerky from the bag and tore off a piece with his teeth.

Stiles looked at him. Derek watched, it was as if he could see his wheels turning. Letting him come upon the realization. Derek had healed, he could have left. But he'd waited, waited for _him_. Why?

“You stuck around?” Stiles asked nervously running his hands over his scalp, he needed to do something with them to channel his nervous energy. “Nothing to do with getting rid of witnesses I hope?”

Derek left the bag of jerky on the steps as rose back to his feet, his footfalls heavy as he walked back towards the fidgeting kid in front of him. He could feel Stiles’ heart kick into high gear but to his credit he didn’t shrink back from him this time.

“Do I need to?” Derek quipped back.

Stiles shook his head fervently, as Derek came to stand in front of him.

“No!” Stiles cried. “I am so good at keeping secrets, like- I’ve totally never told anyone about that time Scott-”

He stopped cold, realizing he was just about to do the one thing he said he never did. Derek’s eyebrows raised, an amused smirk lit up his face.

“But, see? As I was saying, you’d never get anything out of me.”

Derek smirked.

“There’s time enough to get all sorts of things out of you…” Derek said in a slow growl, he had to mentally kick himself. He’d intended for it to sound seductive, but it had inadvertently carried the tone of threat by the expression on Stiles blanched face.

Derek stiffened not sure how to proceed, Stiles’ face contorted into a terrified smile accompanied by a forced laugh.

“Thank you,” Derek sighed giving up.

It was like he’d spoken a magic word, the knot of tension that begun to twist in Stiles released. He raised his eyes to a more relaxed smile on his face.

“Yeah man, no problem.” Stiles chirped cheerfully, haphazardly putting his hand on Derek’s formerly injured shoulder. “You’re welcome.”

He felt Stiles’ heart suddenly jump, and his hand flinch, realizing he might have overstepped putting his hands on him. At the same time hesitating, afraid to cause offense by taking his hand back.

Stiles rubbed his shoulder timidly, and Derek cast his eyes at him, not really bothered by it.

“How’s the shoulder feeling?” Stiles voice wavered unsteady, hand still awkwardly rubbing his shoulder.

“Good.” Derek replied with an amused smile, eyes flickering up. Leaning into Stiles’ touch. “Even better now.”

“O-oh my god!” Stiles shuddered, his body shaking tumultuously as his hand clenched Derek’s shoulder, gripping him tightly; Stiles scanned him nervously.

Derek was trying to make his intentions as clear as possible, because he feared his words would fail him and his meaning would be misunderstood.

Stiles swallowed nervously. His lips trembled. He wasn't misreading this. Derek was flirting, awkwardly, but, not like he could do much better.

He bit his lip, it hurt. He wasn’t dreaming, this wasn’t some amazingly vivid fantasy. He swallowed nervously. Damn, if it was, what did he have to lose?

He leaned forward tentatively, his chest pressed against the strained fabric of his grey shirt over Derek’s chest. His eyes flicked up to Derek’s as he licked his lips. Heart racing in his ears as he put his lips timidly to the wolf’s.

He could feel Derek smile against his lips, as he stepped forward, strong arms suddenly caged him. When Derek kissed him back, sweet and timid. He felt his heart shatter as he dropped his arms and wrapped them around his taunt torso, Derek did the same pulling into him.

After a few sweet seconds, Derek split the seam of Stiles’s lips with his tongue and flicked his tongue teasingly. Stiles jumped but welcomed him with a swipe of his own tongue. Clumsily following Derek’s lead, making up for inexperience with enthusiasm. He felt Derek’s arms tighten around him and he melted into his body, holding on for dear life. This was the best dream ever! He could feel himself getting lightheaded, it was that amazing or, more reasonably, he wasn’t getting enough oxygen.

He didn’t have a choice, he had to break the kiss or asphyxiate. He pulled his lips back, leaving a kiss on Derek’s. As he was finally able to refill his lungs, he opened his eyes slowly. Derek was just as flushed and short of breath as he was. Derek smiled, and Stiles couldn’t help but do the same.

“Aww…” A female voice called from somewhere behind Derek. He could feel, Derek’s body tense in his arms. He expected him to rip away from him, but he didn’t, he gently slipped his arm from him to stand protectively in front of him.

Stiles glanced about not sure what to expect when he saw her above them, leaned against the railing.

“Oh, don’t mind me,” The brunette snickered jumping over the handrail and landing silently on the ground behind Derek. “Even I’ve been curious to see how my brother expresses gratitude.”

“Laura,” Derek growled relaxing, though clearly exasperated.

She smiled looking at Stiles from around her bulking brother, with an eyebrow raised.

“So,” She began walking past her brother to inspect Stiles. He smiled as pleasantly as he could. “You stood me up, for him?”

Stiles’ smile faded, she was as hard to read as her brother.

Derek opened his mouth to speak, but floundered; realizing he didn’t really have an excuse. He had not gone out to search for his sister, even after Stiles had treated his wounds. Really, she was fine, she was the Hale Alpha after all.

“What’s your name, sweet thing?” She asked smiling.

“Sweet thing?” Stiles asked looking around to make sure she wasn’t talking to anyone else. “Me?”

She smiled and nodded.

“Stiles.” Derek growled. “He is Stiles. And he is going home.”

Derek looked at him, a commanding pursed smile; Derek wanted him to go home.

“Ah, yes!” Stiles chirped catching his insistence. “I am.”

“Boo…” Laura cooed. “That’s too bad.”

“I know right?” Stiles replied. “I just met you, but I really gotta run.”

“Oh, well.” Laura sighed. “Beware out there, it’s dangerous alone.”

Stiles hesitated nervously, looking from Derek to Laura.

“Laura,” Derek growled annoyed, turning back to Stiles putting his big hands soothingly on his shoulders. “Listen, you’ll be okay. It’s not that far. Just stay on the path and don’t stop.”

Stiles’ trembling eased, eyes focused on Derek’s calm reassuring expression. He nodded.

“If you need anything, yell and I’ll find you.” Derek finished putting a quick kiss on his lips. Stiles nodded and made for the door and he was gone.

Derek sighed, keen ears listening to Stiles quick steps until they were out of his range.

“What the hell Laura!” Derek barked, turning back to her smiling face.

“I don’t know why you didn’t just walk him home, take him to his room, and tuck him into bed.” Laura mocked. “I just wanted him to know what could be out there.”

 “What did you find?” He asked changing the subject.

“Nothing good,” She murmured going back to pick up the jerky bag, she sniffed it and took a chunk.

“Was it a feral wolf?” Derek asked crossing his arms over his chest. Laura shook her head as she chewed the chunk of cured meat.

“Whatever it is isn’t good.” Laura replied. “I got lucky. If that mop-headed teenager hadn’t come out I wouldn’t have gotten clear of him.”

“And you’re sure?” Derek insisted.

“Yeah, it was only momentarily but I am a hundred percent sure. It was uncle Peter’s scent.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After encountering Derek and learning werewolves are real. Stiles worries about an unwell Scott, while dealing with werewolf things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT LIVES!!  
> Alright, I wanted to upload it complete, but it's taking longer than I would like.  
> Partially because it took me some time to get the idea, and then there were other Sterek stories that took priority in my brain...  
> Anyway, I'm uploading everything I've got done (so far).  
> Enjoy!  
> And thank you to all the kind people who seemed to really like it. I would not have continued it without you. <3

Stiles eyes darted around, scanning all the faces that seemed to blur together. His jeep was back in working order, finally. He’d dropped by to pick up Scott, but he’d already been gone, very unlike him.

He saw the familiar swish of red hair, the gorgeous Lydia Martin; with that living Roman statue that was Jackson Whitmore.

“Scott!” Stiles called springing from the lockers, spotting the familiar head of dark curls. The boy looked exhausted, bags under his eyes, tan skin blanched, as he lifted his eyes to meet Stiles. “Dude, you’re not looking any better…”

Scott shrugged, Stiles looked down at him, his excitement ebbing. This wasn’t a good time to share, that his reality had seriously taken a turn for the weird; not only that but that he’d gotten his first ever kiss, from Derek Hale- who happened to be a werewolf!! He tamped his excitement down.

Scott first. Stiles’ happiness later.

Stiles settled back into the lockers as Scott spun in his locker combination.

He really looked out of sorts, Scott wasn’t the healthiest person to begin with. He had a stomach of steel by comparison. But his asthma could get pretty bad, he’d never seen him look this bad.

“Maybe it’s time we tell your mom?” Stiles suggested.

“No,” Scott replied with a feeble shake of his head. “She has another on call shift tonight.”

“How about the nurse? You know, just to make sure…”

Scott closed his locker and gave as determined a look as his sleep deprived eyes could muster. Stiles felt his heart clench.

“I’m fine.” He ground out; even though he totally didn’t look it, didn’t sound it, as much as he was trying.

“I’m just saying, two days man… Maybe it’s time we take it to the adults.”

“What about you?” Scott asked, Stiles pouted at him confused. “You have your Kafka?”

“My what-a?”

Scott gave a tired laugh.

“ _Metamorphosis_. We’re starting it today, remember?” He explained striking his head with the paperback.

“Aw crap.” Stiles grumbled swing his bag off his shoulder to rummage through his open bag. “I think it fell out of my bag.”

“Well, hurry and get it.” Scott sighed. “Class is starting in five.”

“Alright,” He hissed sling his bag back on his shoulder. “Save me a seat.”

Scott nodded as Stiles dashed down the emptying hall towards the parking lot.

* * *

 

He was halfway to his jeep when he heard the shrill trill of the bell behind him.

“Thanks Scott.” He muttered as he slowed his pace and walked the rest of the way to his jeep. “That was **so** not five minutes…”

Whatever. Late was late.

He unlocked his jeep and rummaged through the cluttered backseat; other textbooks, empty water bottles, extra rolls of duct tape, a few tools. No book.

He stretched across the center console, feeling the floor of the passenger side. His fingers finding the distinct feathery feel of old pages.

“Gotcha!”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in class?” A gruff voice asked behind him.

Stiles shrieked and tried to twist and stand up; which only left him a tangled mess of limbs, sprawled across the driver’s seat of the jeep.

“Derek!?” He squawked, his face on fire as he untangled himself and got back to his feet.

He nodded an amused smile playing across his features.

“I wasn’t sure I was going to see you again…” Stiles mumbled, feeling his cheeks grow hotter. Derek raised a lone eyebrow. “You know, we didn’t really exchange numbers or anything…”

Derek smiled.

“I’m a werewolf, Stiles.” Derek replied matter-of-factly moving closer. “I’ve got your scent. There’s no way I could lose you.”

Stiles licked his lips nervously, eyes dropping to Derek’s lips.

“Right...” Stiles mumbled, face probably resembling a cherry tomato. “My scent- is it that strong?”

“It is to me.” Derek replied.

Stiles wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or an insult; he opted for the former.

“Shucks…” He guffawed, feeling a little like Goofy. “What brings you round these parts?”

Derek shook his head, but the smile slipping away.

“Hunting actually.”

“What?” Stiles replied his heart sinking. The smile gone, replaced by furrowed brows and a set stare as he closed in on him. His heart catapulted back into his chest as Derek cornered him against his jeep.

 “Listen, I need you to be careful.” Derek urged, voice low and serious. “There’s a new wolf here, and its too close. I don’t know them and they could be dangerous.”

Stiles nodded vigorously.

“A new wolf?” Stiles stammered. “How?”

Stiles felt his stomach clench tightly, he tried to meet Derek’s eyes.

“Was someone attacked?”

Derek’s eyes dropped to the ground.

“Yes.” He answered brows furrowed. “Laura has me trying to track them. I followed their scent here, but with all the bodies, I’ve lost it. We want to help this new wolf. The first moon is never easy.”

“Can I help?” Stiles offered.

Derek’s face softened and it made his heart flutter.

“No. that’s the opposite of why I’m telling you.” Derek replied flatly.

“No, see, I live for these things!” Stiles began brown eyes alight with curiosity, like an engine revering to go.

“Stiles, I want you to be safe.” Derek insisted.

Stiles stared at him; there was something so soft, in his troubled jade eyes. It made his heart feel like it was pulling him towards the uber-serious wolf.

He nodded finally conceding, watching that worry ease just a touch.

Stiles would be safe. He’d be careful, totally careful. He’d keep his distance; he’d just keep his ears open, watch a little closer. Maybe look around a little more, only a tad more than usual. Nothing serious, certainly nothing dangerous. He was the sheriff’s son; he could totally conduct a lowkey, danger-free, investigation.

* * *

 

Stiles surveyed the sea of faces; height was an underappreciated skill, no matter what anyone said about it not being a skill. By the end of the day he knew intimate details about a good half of the school and had gathered up some tidbits on the other half. But finding someone's werewolf status wasn't as easy to suss out as their relationship status.

Scott had gone ahead to get geared up for practice, he really hoped to make it off the bench this year. He, on the other hand was little more realistic; since neither his physicality or his endurance had improved in any significant way, the bench could wait.

He had identified a few possible suspects: First on the list was Jackson Whitmore, he was already adept at turning into an asshole, so turning into a werewolf might not be much of a stretch. Easy suspect was the new girl, Allison Argent. Pretty, quiet, seemingly pleasant. Didn't really seem like werewolf material, thus the perfect cover.

He huffed peeling himself off the wall and heading to the locker room.

“ _Seriously!?_ ” The girl’s voice cried so suddenly he stopped dead, sure he’d done something. “ _That’s sick!_ ”

He spun around trying to identify the offended party, but there was no one immediately near him.

_“Yeah. My brother said it was the third deer this week found **shredded**.”_

He identified the girls talking next to the vending machine. Brit, the blonde was the one who’d originally caught his attention. Her pretty face twisted in utter disgust as the petite brunette continued.

_“They found one last week torn in **half**.”_

He dug some change out of his pocket, and moved in front of the other snack machine as he eavesdropped on the two.

“Oh my god!” Brit gasped covering her face horrified. “At the preserve?”

“Yeah.”

“Do they know what did it?”

“They’re thinking a cougar. But I think it has to be some sort of freak thing, or it has super rabies or something like that.”

“For reals, I’m not running there ever again.” Brit proclaimed.

Stiles watched the girls head off down the hall. So this new wolf might be living in the preserve. Derek’s house was on the border of the preserve. It couldn’t be a coincidence.

He pushed the button to get his money back, but the machine only blinked, $1.00. He groaned as he scanned the snacks and hit the button for the Reese peanut butter cups.

He watched the coils around the snack turn slowly.

“Shit!” He hissed he was going to be late for practice too!?

* * *

 

He was in fact not late, well he was; but Coach Finstock was later. he’d had more than enough time to change and even enjoy his peanut butter cups.

He sat on the bench next to Scott as he checked the netting of his stick.

“It could also, be Greenburg... Oh, Greenburg...." He murmured, his eyes narrowing in contemplation.

“What?” Scott asked looking up at him.

“Huh?”

“You said it could be Greenburg.”

“Nah, it’s nothing.” Stiles dismissed focusing on his friend.

“What the hell are you girls doing in here!?” Finstock bellowed entering the locker room. Everyone seemed to freeze at his sudden appearance, like deer before an oncoming semi. “Just cuz I’m not on the field doesn’t mean you’re not! Get out there! Last one owes me 10 laps!”

Everyone started gathering their things and moving towards the exit in a hurry.

"Are you sure you want to practice? I mean weren't you looking a little _The Walking Dead_ this morning?" Stiles asked eyeing him.

He still looked a little peaky but it was hard to tell past the face mask.

"I'm fine." Scott grunted. "I'm making first line this year."

Stiles watched him pull his mask onto his head, as he gathered up his gear, gnawing on his cheek to keep from nagging. He bobbed his head and followed Scott out to the field.

At least he had a pretty good idea of what to carve on his gravestone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I can keep the spirit and levity of the first part, throughout. Since I did write them some time apart.
> 
> Again, I'm kind of rewriting the events of the first season with some changes; I'm both following cannon and completely disregarding it in other parts XP


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys search the preserve for supernatural creatures, and find one.

Stiles took his eyes off the road to glance at him, he seemed well. He glanced back at the road, he looked really good. He’d played goalie incredibly well, impressing Finstock and everyone who’d come to watch tryouts. He was in a really good mood. So, it’d been super easy to convince him to go to the Beacon Hills Preserve.

“It just felt like things were moving in slow-mo you know, like I had all the time in the world.”

“No I don’t know.” Stiles replied. “But I get what you mean.”

“The weird thing, is it feels like I can hear and smell things like super good too…” Scott continued. “Like that Mint Mojito gum in your pocket…”

Stiles scoffed.

“I don’t have any gum-” Stiles replied as he dug into his jacket pocket to prove him wrong; only to produce one abandoned, half unwrapped piece of gum.

He said nothing and pocketed the evidence.

“We’re here!” He announced as he pulled off the main road, the parking area was blocked off with a length of chain.

Definitely ominous and worth investigating.

“Why are we here again?” Scott asked joining him at the chain meant to keep vehicles out, clearly no match for teenagers.

Stiles smiled wickedly.

“There’s a crazy rabid cougar on the loose in the preserve.”

“And we’re going _into_ the preserve? Where there’s a crazy rabid cougar… Why?”

Stiles glanced at him, clumsily stepping over the chain narrowly avoiding injury.

“It could be fun?” Stiles offered arms spread wide on the other side of the barrier.

Scott huffed, and crouched under the length of chain following after him.

Stiles surveyed the area, nothing looked out of sorts. Just a well worn path ahead of them. There were lots of paths, one had even delivered him to Derek a few days ago. Scott moved ahead of him and started off the path.

Stiles watched, Scott seemed to know where he was going. Maybe he was picking up something with his awesome new sense of smell; he followed after.

After a few minutes of walking parallel to the path, there was no sight of anything out of the ordinary.

 “Hey Scotty,” Stiles called following him over the large fallen branch.

“Hmm.”

“You feeling ok?”

“Yeah, man. I’m great,” Scott replied enthusiastically.

“And that’s not strange?” Stiles asked briefly meeting his eyes.

“Why would it be strange?”

“Well, you weren’t looking good this morning, or yesterday for that matter...”

“I feel fine now…” Scott paused.

Stiles noticed it right away, in the flick of his eyes: he had a secret.

“ _But…?_ ”

Scott stopped and turned to face him.

Dark eyes down cast.

 “But yeah,” Scott hesitated. “I got bit the other night.”

“You work for a veterinarian.” Stiles remarked half smiling. “Isn’t that like a painter getting paint on him?”

“No but, that’s the thing…” Scott continued, tugging nervously on his hoodies’ ratty sleeve.

Stiles looked at him, and forced his mouth shut. It was listening time, give the boy five minutes.

“So I was closing up, I just taken the trash out. And then I thought I heard something in the alley, right?” Scott explained.

Stiles nodded to show he was keeping up.

 “I don’t even really know what I saw. But it was huge! Glowing eyes and hairy. Like Bigfoot,”

Stiles stared at him in disbelief. But kept his mouth shut. Up until the Bigfoot conclusion, he’d envisioned the awe-slash-terrifying sight that was Derek in his wolf form.

“So it spots me. For a second I’m like- is that Bigfoot? And then it’s coming at me. I start running back towards the street I’m screaming my head off! And it got me!”

“It got you?” Stiles blurted, he covered his mouth with his hands- that was not five minutes…

“Yeah, right here.” Scott explained motioning across his side, fingers curled mimicking claws.

Stiles stared. It was not possible, was it? Derek said there was a new wolf, and he didn’t exactly deny that it was the result of some kind of attack. Had Scott been attacked by Derek?

No. He wasn’t alone, there were other werewolves. There was his sister, Laura and that other bad alpha, the one that had injured Derek.

“Deaton came out and pulled me back in, and patched me up.”

“You didn’t call the cops? Or tell your mom?” Stiles asked aghast. Sorry five minutes, but not today.

“No.”

“Why?” Stiles hissed dumbfounded.

“It wasn’t really that bad.” Scott dismissed with a smile. “Like you said, I’ve been bitten worse by Pomeranians.”

Stiles stopped suddenly spying Derek standing in front of them. Like he’d appeared out of nowhere. He smacked Scott and he turned to face him.

He wasn’t sure what to say or how to act, he just froze.

“What are you doing here?” He asked sharply approaching them. “Huh?”

Stiles heart slammed into his chest and he ran his hand nervously over his scalp. Avoiding making eye contact.

He was in the woods clearly, doing some sort of investigating. What was he supposed to say? How could he look him in the eye right now?

“This is private property.” Derek announced.

“Uh, Sorry man we didn’t know…” Stiles mumbled, lying, trying to not stare. He was so serious.

“Yeah, we were just looking for something…” Scott added, Stiles raised his eyes.

Derek looked at him expectantly before he glanced over a Stiles accusingly.

“You! Should, have boundaries properly marked…” Stiles rebuked and Derek leveled an unamused glare at him; he just dropped his gaze and pocketed his hands.

“See yourselves off the property. Immediately.” Derek ordered with a final glance at both of them before turning and heading off.

Stiles watched him leave, heart hammering in his chest. His brain felt fried, somewhere between excitement and fear all jumbled together.

 “Dude!” Stiles cried excitedly, smacking Scott’s chest. “That was Derek Hale!”

“Who?” Scott asked confused. “Oh! That one guy you had a huge crush on in 7th grade?”

Stiles froze, feeling his face grow hot. He didn’t think he’d remember that!

“Didn’t you have some weird dream about him being a werewolf…?” Scott asked recalling earlier in the week.

Stiles was crestfallen.

 “It wasn’t a dream…” Stiles whimpered. It’d seemed like one- and had sounded like some kind of fever dream when he’d told Scott. But it was true. Even though Derek had acted like he didn’t know  him…

“Sure it was buddy.” Scott offered consolingly as he lead him back onto the path.

“Come on, let’s get outta here I got work today.” Scott offered changing the subject.

* * *

 

It was a super quick walk back to the jeep, it was actually still within view.

They were not cut out to be explores in any capacity. He glanced at Scott; usually, even moderate exercise had Scott taking a hit of his inhaler. But he seemed perfectly okay.

“Don’t look so disappointed.” Scott called as they reached the jeep. “Maybe not finding a crazy rabid cougar is a good thing.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. Not a cougar, a wolf; but that wasn’t the only thing occupying his thinking. Besides Scott’s lack of inhaler use, was Derek Hale…

He still didn’t quiet have a grasp on Derek; they’d only had a hand full of encounters, no actual conversations but shared a very nice kiss. What was all that _exactly_?

“Well no Bigfoot is good too…” Stiles replied with a sigh. Scott smiled over at him from across the hood of the jeep.

“What’s that under your wiper?” Scott asked jumping into the passenger’s seat.

He slipped back out of the drives seat to collect the scrap of paper tucked under his wiper blade.

Stiles opened the paper, scanning the digits and the name at the bottom. He couldn’t keep from smiling as he pocketed it next to the gum.

“Nothing.”

Scott looked at him, eyes suspicious.

“You hungry?” He asked trying to change the subject. Unable to wipe the smile off his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I don't believe that Scott is an idiot, boyishly idealistic is the term I prefer. The Bigfoot thing is all me, sorry not sorry.
> 
> More to come soon.
> 
> Like always kudos and comments are appreciated.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has to confront Scott with the news he's a werewolf, on the precipice of Lydia Martins big party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI there are a lot of lines I lifted from the show in this upload. I intend only to borrow them, but they were not originally created by me. Credit where it's do.

 Werewolves. It was on his brain, had been almost all week; since encountering Derek. It was like when you learn a new word and then it seems to be everywhere! As if the idea that they were real wasn’t enough; the fact that Scott might have encountered a werewolf was a whole other can of worms.

It almost felt like too much to handle. It made his brain feel like the steel ball in a pinball machine.

 The chance of a Bigfoot in Beacon Hills? Unlikely. Then again, those would’ve been the same odds he would have given for a werewolf; until recently. Now, he had first-hand experience encountering a werewolf, probably two. So, logically: Scott had to have encountered a werewolf, not a Bigfoot.

He looked at Scott. He seemed normal again. Color back in his face, lively. Regular old Scott McCall, at least a first glance.

“I’ve had some super weird dreams,” Scott grumbled. “What do you know about sleep walking?”

Stiles eyebrows jumped up and his mouth fell wide; while his brain booted up the information.

“Formally known as _Somnambulism_. Pretty common medical condition actually, affects roughly 3 mil. in the US.” Stiles reported. “Typically affects kids, though they outgrow it. Dude! There was this one case where a dude mowed the lawn naked!”

Stiles sniggered, Scott didn’t seem amused, he let the smile fall off his face.

“You’re really sleepwalking?” Stiles asked, most people who suffered from it, rarely remembered it.

“Yeah…” Scott replied closing his locker. “I woke up in the woods…”

Stiles looked at him confused, Scott nodded, not wanting to voice the last part. Stiles brows knotted together as he tried to work out the last part; suddenly it pinged, and his eyes went wide.

“ _Naked_?” He whispered leaning in.

Scott nodded sheepishly.

“Did you tell your mom?” He asked instantly, Scott shook his head.

Stiles swallowed, nervously.

“It’s probably no big deal,” Scott reasoned, smiling. “You said it, it happens. People get over it.”

“Yeah,” Stiles replied with an exaggerated shrug. Did werewolves? Was it common for them? Ugh, that was not going to pop up on _WebMD_.

“Besides, I got a really good feeling. I think I am going to do it.”

“Do what now?” Stiles asked refocusing on Scott.

“Make first line.” Scott replied.

“Live and hope buddy,” Stiles replied, clasping his arm around his shoulder.

* * *

 

What had been static in the back of his brain was becoming an undeniable roar.

Scott had done it, like he’d predicted. He’d been ecstatic in the locker room. He hadn’t even noticed the death glare he was getting from Jackson.

He was thrilled for his friend but the truth was, something wasn’t right. Scott hadn’t touched his inhaler even once. He’d played inhumanly well, speeding across the field, dodging defenders and even pulling off Spiderman like flips.

 _“You’re a werewolf Scott.”_ It’d been playing on repeat through his head all day.

But he realized he really didn’t know what that meant. How did one become a werewolf? So, he’d searched out any and all answers.

He’d thought about contacting Derek. Asking him directly; he had left him his number, but he was hesitant about it. If he was right, then Scott was the new wolf Derek was looking for. What would that mean for Scott?

_“Scott you didn’t get bit by Bigfoot, you got bit by a werewolf.”_

He’d gone back over all his werewolf research. Chewed up half a dozen Adderall. Tonight was Lydia’s party. It was also the full moon. He had a terrible idea of what that could mean for a new wolf; for Scott.

He was 98% sure Scott was a werewolf. It was all the little things, the sensitivity to sounds and smells. How much better a lacrosse player he’d become. He’d practiced with him all through the summer, he’d never played even a fraction as well.

It was just, how did you tell your best friend such a major thing about himself, when he didn’t seem to realize it? It’d be almost like outing him.

How could he do that to his best friend? But how could he keep it quiet?

Worse still, everything had been going so well for him.

He clutched his phone tightly, he’d already called him, Scott should already be on his way. He dropped his phone on the desktop and ground the heels of his hands into his temple, his head felt like a hive of bees. He looked over all the papers that he had strewn about his room. He knew it would sound crazy. But he had to tell him. He’d have to tell Derek too… But, one werewolf at a time damnit!

There was a rap at his door and he bolted to open it.

“Get in here!” He hissed pulling Scott in.

“What is this big important thing that I just had to hear?” He asked smiling. Stiles ran a hand over his face.

He looked so happy, and he was going to destroy it.

He hesitated, sucking in a deep breath and looking at him. Scott just stood their smiling back at him.

“Man…” He exhaled running his blunt nails over his scalp.

He met Scott’s eyes again. He knew he had to tell him. But his chest was tight and he felt he was short of breath.

“Scott… I think you’re a werewolf.”

Scott looked at him a second confused, before he laughed.

“Very funny. That’s what was so important?”

“Listen to me Scott, I know what it sounds like, but- Just think about it,” Stiles insisted grabbing his shoulders.

“My contact says someone was attacked! And then you tell me you got attacked. See how those things line up?”

“Your contact? You have contacts now?” Scott asked in disbelief.

Stiles ran his hand over his head as he moved towards him.

“You got attacked and it doesn’t even hurt anymore, how is that normal?” Stiles insisted.

Scott was quiet, just listening to him.

“Then today, I saw you on the field, Scott.” Stiles began. “Okay? What you did wasn’t just amazing, all right? It was impossible!”

“Yeah, so I made a good shot.” Scott shrugged leaving his backpack on the bed.

“No, you made an incredible shot. I mean, the way you moved, your speed your reflexes. People can’t just suddenly do that overnight. And then there’s the vision and the senses, and don’t even think I didn’t notice you haven’t needed your inhaler.”

“Okay dude, I can’t think about this now.” Scott dismissed. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? What? No!” Stiles yelled. “The full moon’s tonight. Don’t you get it?”

Stiles’ chest felt tight, the look on his face was worse than disbelief, and it hurt.

“What are you trying to do?” He asked voice sharp, accusatory. “I just made first line.”

Stiles swallowed, his hands shaking. He knew that. He knew how much things were going his way. And here he was with a fire hose to rain on his parade.

“I got a date with a girl, who I can’t believe wants to go out with me. Everything in my life is somehow perfect. Why are you trying to ruin it?”

He couldn’t meet his eyes. He was ruining everything, **if** he was wrong. But he wasn’t wrong, he could prove it; Stiles turned and rummaged through some of the printed pages on his desk.

“I’m trying to help.” He murmured, but he couldn’t meet his best friend’s eyes. He didn’t want to see the disbelief, the thought that he might be doing this out of something terrible like jealously or pettiness.

“You-” He stopped himself swallowing back the words. Was being a werewolf a curse? The websites called it a curse. Did that mean Derek was cursed?

“If I’m right- The moon will cause you to physically change. It will also be when your bloodlust will be at its peak.”

“Bloodlust?”

“The urge to kill.” Stiles explained dropping into his computer chair.

“I’m already starting to feel and urge to kill, Stiles.” Scott replied joking, but it didn’t sound like it.

“You gotta hear this.” He spun his chair around and pulled out the leather bound book, flipping to the page he’d been reading.

“ _The change can be caused by anger or anything that raises your pulse._ ” He read, looking up at him. “All right? I haven’t seen anything raise your pulse like Allison does.”

Scott looked at him, dark eyes sharply set on him.

“You gotta cancel this date. I’ll do it.” Stiles leapt from the chair plucking Scott’s phone from his bag.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m canceling the date.”

“No! give it to me!” Scott roared slamming Stiles into the wall and tearing the phone out of his hands.

Stiles’ eyes fluttered shut expecting the punch; but it didn’t land. He opened his eyes and saw Scott’s fist, raised, aimed straight at him.

Stiles looked at his friend before he growled and flipped his desk chair away.

“Scott, man, come on…” Stiles insisted. “You’re a werewolf.”

“Sorry.” He huffed. Scott wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“I gotta get ready for the party.” He stammered, gathering his bag.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated stopping at the door one last time. Stiles didn’t meet his eyes, he didn’t say anything. Worse, he knew he was right. Scott was never like that, he was the most easy-going guy he knew. This was not like him. Ever.

Stiles knocked his head against the wall defeated but certain, as the door closed behind his friend. He sighed, peeling himself off the wall, he ran his hand over his head. His room was a mess, but that was more his doing. He picked up his desk chair only to find four perfectly parallel slashes across the back.

His heart dropped to his stomach. Immediately picturing the wounds on Derek’s side.

He rummaged through the printouts on his desk, searching for his phone.

Trembling, he pulled up Derek’s number. This was out of his depth. Derek was the only one who might know how to help.

The phone rang.

“Hey,” He greeted trying to steady the tremor in his voice.

“ _Stiles._ ” Derek sighed into his ear. His unsteady heart quivered.

“I think I found your wolf.”

Derek was quiet.

“It’s my friend Scott.” He confessed, shutting his eyes tight.

“ _Does he know?_ ”

“I told him.” He sighed, not sure what kind of a reaction Derek would have at that.

“ _How did he take it?_ ”

“Not good.” Stiles shuddered. “How hard is it to control?”

“It t _akes time and practice._ ” Derek replied. “ _Which he hasn’t had._ ”

“He doesn’t have any control…” Stiles murmured, Scott wasn’t someone quick to anger or resort to violence. “He’s going to Lydia’s party tonight.”

“ _Martin?_ ” Derek replied.

“Yeah, I’m going to head over there and try to talk to him.”

“ _No._ ” Derek’s voice was stern. “ _If this goes bad I don’t want you there._ ”

“He’s my friend.” Stiles replied, almost pleadingly. Glad Derek couldn’t see the tears threatening to fall.

Derek was quiet a beat.

“ _I’ll see you there._ ”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia's party from a werewolf's POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few more borrowed bits, honestly, there are probably a few in earlier chapters. But I might not have been paying close enough attention.

He threw together an outfit, 3 times… It was stupid but still, he couldn’t crash Lydia’s first party of the year looking shabby. Derek was going to be there too, not that that was a factor either.

The drive to Lydia’s party was a quick one, like a lot of Beacon Hills it seemed to be situated within a short proximity to the Beacon Hills preserve. He had to wonder if it wasn’t on purpose.

“Crap.” He groaned clenching the steering wheel, the street was already chocked full of parked cars. The music carried on what seemed like the last summer breeze. He was anxious; He put the jeep in reverse and eased into a spot against the curb.

He parked the jeep and killed the engine. His knee bounced in the cramped space of the driver’s seat. He released a shaky breath and pulled the rearview mirror to give himself a once over.

It was his face. He rolled his eyes and smiled wide making sure there wasn’t anything in his teeth. He ran an unsteady hand over his scalp.

“Show time.” He sighed, popping the door open and heading towards the music.

* * *

 

The music was garbage, loud with a throbbing baseline; all synthetic. If it wasn’t for the years of practicing control, it would be painful.

 It was almost the worst, then again glancing out at the mire of sweat, perfume, and hormones that occupied the patio he wasn’t inside the equally crowded house.

He only just caught his scent, much like him; it coasted by almost indistinguishable. But unique, a scent that seemed to stick in his memory from their very first encounter.

Derek spotted his lanky frame right away; Stiles made his way from the house, greeting bewildered strangers as he made his way into the backyard.

He smiled from his spot back away from lower patio, hidden, not that anyone was looking. Somehow he spotted him, he waved ridiculously excited as he redirected and headed straight for him.

Derek dropped his head and rubbed his temple. He could sense the nervous in him as they thrummed through his veins, like vibrations on guitar strings.

Stiles always seemed pretty quick to overcome the feelings of fear, nervousness, and anxiety- that he was pretty sure he caused in him. The overwhelming excitement and curiosity that followed them was interesting…

“Hey,” Stiles greeted coming to stand at his side. Hands in his pockets. “Did you see him?”

Derek shook his head.

“You?”

Stiles shuffled closer, super close to Derek, probably so he wouldn’t have to yell over the music. He smiled to himself, and glanced at him as his brown eyes scanned the partygoers. He probably had no real clue, just _how_ good his hearing was, but it was cute, and comfortable.

“He might be inside!” Stiles bellowed over the thumping music. “I’m going to do a round!”

Stiles motioned in a circle with his hand as he moved back through the crowd.

He wasn’t gone long returning with two red solo cups.

Stiles offered him the red cup but he just shook his head, human alcohol might as well be soda; Stiles shrugged pouring it’s content into his own.

Derek smiled amused as he chucked the cup into some bushes, taking back the spot next to him, sipping from the plastic cup.

“Found him.” Derek whispered leaning close to his ear.

Instantly, Stiles’ back straightened and he sputtered, looking at him wide-eyed, face flushed, lips glistening from the liquid.

“W-where?” He stammered looking back out into the heaving crowd of dancers.

“He’s dancing with her out there...” Derek replied.

“How do we do this?” He asked spotting Scott dancing up close and slow with Allison.

“Carefully.” Derek replied. “We don’t want to cause him to turn.”

Stiles didn’t have to ask what he meant.

“We have to try and get him alone…” Stiles offered. “I could try talking to him…”

“We want to keep from triggering his transformation.” Derek snarked, Stiles rolled his eyes.

“What’s the plan then?”

“For right now?” Derek asked crossing his arms. “We wait.”

Stiles discarded the cup in a planter and turned to him dumbfounded, he almost wanted to laugh.

“That was not the plan I was expecting...”

“What- No, I don’t want to know the plan you were expecting.”

“I didn’t actually have one…” Stiles confessed. “This whole werewolves thing is kind of new to me. I don’t even know if I’m doing it right…”

“You’re handling it pretty well,” Derek complimented, grinning; suddenly feeling he’d said too much.

“Thanks,” Stiles beamed. “I’ve always wondered how I would handle, a _Harry Potter_ , _Mortal Instrument,_ Monster reveal situation.”

Derek scoffed amused as he located Scott on the dance floor. He could hear the staccato pace of his heart and its cause.

He had to wonder if things hadn’t happened the way they had, would he have spent Friday nights like this?

He refocused on Scott. His heartbeat sounded frenzied, he could smell the change bubbling up in him. The smell of another wolf, a familiar but foreign scent that caused every muscle in his body to go taut. Senses singularly focused on this stranger, this _threat_.

Scott’s golden eyes were focused on him, trying to discern this flood of primal information. Information he’d didn’t understand, like words in another language. Scott shut his eyes tight and seemed to successfully reign in his wolf as he continued dancing with his unassuming date.

He stopped himself noticing Stiles’ concerned expression. He could feel the tension wound tight through his limbs, fight or flight on a hair trigger.

“What’s it like?” Stiles asked pulling his attention from Scott.

Derek looked at him, their eyes almost on the same level but Derek was just a tiny bit taller. The sparse lights, reflecting off the pool seemed to give his brown eyes another worldly hue.

Ramped up from the other wolf, he had the urge to move closer to him, claim him in some way. But he couldn’t do that. They’d only just met, and wolf customs could come off as weird and even possessive. He rolled his shoulders and tried to relax his alert stance; anything to give that tense primal energy an outlet.

“Like you’re skins too small for your bones.” Derek explained. “And you guts are boiling.”

“Dramatic much?” Stiles replied with a grin. He had a great smile, there was a lightness in it, he’d never seen anything like it on anyone. He felt his muscles turn loose just a centimeter. Derek forced a smirk.

His head snapped towards to the dance floor. Stiles followed his gaze, out amongst the dancers: Allison was alone.

“Guess that’s what we were waiting for?” Stiles sighed flexing his fingers.

“I’ll take Scott.” Derek growled.

“No.” Stiles called, Derek glared at him time was ticking. “You take Allison. I’ll talk to him. If I mess this up. He’s going to come looking for her. She’s like the only thing he cares about…”

Derek nodded, it made sense. If Scott got set off, she wouldn’t able to defend herself; not that Stile might be better off, but they did have a stronger relationship.

“I’ve got the girl, then.” Derek replied.

“Allison Argent,” Stiles called over his shoulder as he wove through the crowd headed to the house.

“Hey Stiles!” Derek called over the noise of the crowd. “Be careful.”

Stiles nodded, and swallowed the nerves as he dove back through the crowd searching for Scott.

* * *

 

It wasn’t easy for him to follow Scott through the crowd, even though he seemed disoriented and in pain.

“Scott,” He called catching him. But it was like he didn’t see him, he just pushed past him. He followed him out on to the street, and watched him make his way to his car. Allison was right behind him. He apologized and insisted that he needed to go home. He made sure Scott made it to his car and ran to get to his jeep.

Derek said he’d take care of Allison. Stiles was going to follow Scott and make sure he made it home.

He was going to try and reason with him... Even though, he hadn’t been all that reasonable earlier, when there wasn’t a full moon and impending werewolf shift to compete with.

Stiles had perfected his breaking and entering skills on the McCall residence, namely because they made it so easy. Leaving doors unlocked or windows open, there were plenty of ways to get inside. Tonight he was going with the tried and true: back door.

Once inside, the house was quiet except for the shower upstairs.

He knocked on the door and was relieved when Scott yelled for him to go away.

“Scott it’s me!” He yelled through the door.

Scott cracked the door open.

“Let me in Scott I can help!” He insisted pushing against the door. But Scott held him at bay.

“No, listen, you gotta find Allison.” Scott panted just out of sight in the darkness of the bathroom.

“She’s fine, all right? I saw her get a ride from the party. She’s totally fine.” Stiles tried to calm him.

“No, I think I know who it is.” Scott growled.

“Just let me in.”

“It’s Derek, Derek Hale is the werewolf. He’s the one that scratched me.”

Stiles’ heart dropped to his feet. No, that wasn’t right. It wasn’t true. Derek was a jerk; but he wasn’t bad.

“No, Scott. Listen to me. Derek’s alright. It wasn’t him.” He stopped he didn’t know if he should tell him. “Scott, he drove Allison home from the party.”

It was eerily quiet on the other side of the bathroom door. Stiles heart pounded heavy against his ribs.

“Scott?”

 There was no reply; with inhuman force he slammed the door shut, rattling his teeth.

Before he could do anything else. A loud, heart stopping roar resounded outside and he stood frozen against the door. Unable to will himself to move.

Stiles was terrified that Scott would go after Allison, Derek wasn’t the bad guy. At least he was almost certain he wasn’t. He didn’t really know him that well. He’d taken Allison home. But even though he really wanted to believe that. He still forced himself to drive to her house, fearing that he could be totally wrong about the werewolf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it for now.  
> I'll try to get more done soon, but no promises.
> 
> Thanks for all the reads and kudos they are appreciated.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek vs Scott in the woods, and Stiles and Scott have a heart to heart about the whole situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, if you recognize it it's because I lifted it from the show.

It wasn’t until he was driving her home that the name clicked in his head: Argent. Silver, the hunters.

Sitting in the passenger seat, concerned about Scott, it was hard to believe that she was the descendant of violent, self-righteous zealots.

She seemed sweet, it didn’t _feel_ like an act. Nonetheless, he was wary until she got out of his car.

He noticed the jacket she’d left on the seat.

Stiles had driven back in hopes of helping Scott stay in control. But with the moon reaching its zenith there was no telling what a newly turned wolf might do, even to his best friend.

There was only one thing Derek could think of: luring him out to the preserve. Getting him away from Allison, Stiles and anyone else that might get in his way.

He grabbed the jacket, the way he’d been acting at the party, there was no way he wouldn’t try to locate her. He was counting on that: using her scent as bait.

* * *

 

It was almost too easy. A young wolf driven almost completely by instinct and emotion, he didn’t even think it could be a trick. He smelled him before he saw him, half turned body crouched low following the scent.

When he reached the jacket and realized, Allison wasn’t there he turned, scanning the area, listening, there was too much information coming at him all at once. He couldn’t tell relevant from irrelevant input.

He was dazed, disoriented, an easy mark for an experienced hunter.

“Where is she?” He growled, human voice distorted by his wolf. Eyes a glowing yellow.

“She’s safe from _you_ ,” Derek bit as he tackled him, the two went tumbling down the slope, one over the other.

Until they stopped and Derek pinned him to a tree.

 “What did you do with her?” Scott snarled, claws clenching at his side.

Derek could feel that tension from earlier, constricting, almost suffocating. Seeing this young wolf, stirred his beast. It took every fiber of his being and ounce of control to remind him: _this is Stiles’ friend._

Suddenly he was aware there were others in the preserve.

“Shhs quiet!” He urged the young wolf as he focused on his hearing, running footsteps maybe three of them growing louder. He looked at Scott. “Too late they’re already here. Run!”

He didn’t look back, Scott tried to run. He heard the phosphorus tipped arrow strike the tree and ignite. He could hear the sizzling sound as is burnt bright and blinding somewhere behind him.

Scott groaned, blinded by the sudden blast of chemical light, staggered. When the second arrow fired, he heard it tear through flesh and thunk into the trunk. Scott cried out in pain.

Derek stopped dead and crouched down behind a tree watching. The arrow had pierced the young wolf’s arm pinning him to the tree. They had him.

Chris Argent had him.

They wouldn’t spare him just because he was young. Argent’s saw **any** werewolf as a monster that needed to be exterminated.

Derek clutched the tree trunk, he needed to get out of there before they spotted him too. He clenched his jaw, claws splintering the bark. He couldn’t get caught, he couldn’t leave Laura alone, not with a dangerous wild wolf free, and Argents in Beacon Hills. Scott was Stiles’ friend. Scott mattered to Stiles…

And Stiles matter to him…

He drew his phone from his pocket and glanced again at the cornered wolf.

His body knew what it was doing before it registered in his brain. Quickly Derek attacked from behind them. Grabbing the man with the shotgun, tearing it from his grasp as he sent him flying. He immediately dispatched the other armed man before Argent even had a chance to react.

Scott just stood open mouthed as Derek wrenched the arrow from his arm, and pushed him to run, to get away as he followed behind him.

* * *

 

“Who were they?” Scott panted resting against the tree as he struggled to catch his breath.

“Hunters,” Derek replied glancing out towards the empty road. “The kind that have been hunting us for centuries.”

“ _Us?_ ” Scott spat. “You mean _you_! You did this to me!”

Derek looked at him, still breathing hard from the sprint through the preserve.

“Is it really so bad Scott? That you can see better, hear more clearly, move faster than any human could ever hope?”

Scott didn’t reply, crumpled on the ground next to the tree.

The lore in the human texts referred to their Lycanthropy as a disease, even a curse. He was born a wolf it was a part of him to the smallest iota. He was proud to be a wolf, and even prouder to belong to the Hale pack.

“You’ve been given something that most people would kill for.”

Scott shook his head, looking at him with grieved brown eyes.

“The bite is a gift.” Derek insisted.

“I don’t want it.” Scott growled Derek closed in on him crouching before him.

The younger wolf coiled into himself, trying to make himself small but eyes still locked defiantly on his.

“You will.” Derek replied coolly. “And you’re going to need me if you want to learn to control it.”

Scott looked away as Derek rose back to his feet. He could hear the rumble of an old engine coming up the road.

“So you and me Scott, we’re brothers now.”

Derek reached down offering the younger wolf his hand, defiantly Scott refused it, using the trunk to pull himself back on to his feet. The dingy yellow headlights washed over them and the familiar jeep came to a stop.

Stiles came bounding out of the jeep.

“Scott!” He called approaching them and stopping cold at the sight of them.

“Stiles?” Scott asked moving towards the jeep. “How did you find us?”

Stiles ran to him, looking him over.

“He texted me.” Stiles replied eyes scanning over him.

“Derek?” Scott asked bewildered glancing over at him, he was hanging back.

“Your arm, you got shot!?” Stiles yelped, ignoring his question.

“An arrow,” Scott explained. “No big deal… Derek, saved me.”

Stiles stopped, and turned to Derek. He moved over to him and grasped his arm. Honey colored eyes fearful.

“Are you ok?” He asked eyes scanning over him, looking for any injury.

“I’m fine.” Derek rebuffed. “I know what I’m doing.”

Derek grasped Stiles’ neck and looked him straight in the eyes, his thumb stroking his jaw gently, soothingly.

“I’m okay.” Derek replied earnestly. “It’s okay now.”

Stiles shuddered a breath and crashed into Derek. He was scared, he could feel it in the tremors of his body, in the mix of his chemo-signals. He wrapped his arms around him and held him close.

“ **He** was your contact?” Scott called bewildered.

Stiles nodded pulling away from Derek, the blush creeping into his cheeks.

“Yeah…” He replied sheepishly.

Scott looked at both of them wide-eyed and mouth agape.

“You two should be fine, but it’d probably be a good idea to split.” Derek called.

Stiles just nodded and he didn’t wait around any longer, disappearing into the woods.

* * *

 

Stiles closed the door as Scott dropped like a ton of bricks onto his bed.

He looked at him and glanced out the window. Outside the moon was clearly hanging low in the west.

Scott had been normal, quiet, the whole ride home, but there was still a chance he could still be dangerous. He could be afraid of him, or be there for his friend, even though it was pretty frickin’ scary.

“Scott,” He called. “I think you're a werewolf...”

Scott gave a weak laugh and nodded, looking up at him; golden eyes hurt, and pleading.

A tight knot of panic rolled in his stomach. Scott was the wolf Derek had been looking for. Scott had been turned, by who? He didn’t believe it was Derek or his sister. That meant there was something worse out there.

His best friend was now a werewolf.

He wanted to say it would be okay. He wanted to comfort his best friend. But he didn't know. And in all honesty, it freaked him out. His world had taken a nose dive into the supernatural.

Looking at his luminescent golden eyes, it reminded him of Derek's ice blue ones. Derek, could be the answer, he had the most experience. Or at least knew more about werewolves, duh, he was one.

When he'd given him the heads up he'd sounded sympathetic, almost worried about this newly turned werewolf.

“I gotta confess something,” Stiles began. “I think Derek is our best bet.”

Scott looked at him confused.

“He’s a werewolf.” Stiles replied. “He kinda has us beat on XP.”

“What!?” Scott cried jumping to his feet.

“What?” Stiles yelped back. “He knows how to do the whole wolf thing! Come on, it was a full moon, did you see him wolf out once?”

Scott was quiet.

“No Stiles. He could be dangerous.” Scott growled head down.

“You don't-”

“I got scratched, I do l know that!” Scott barked past a mouthful of sharp fangs. Charging onto his feet. His shoulders suddenly tense, like when he squared up to take a hit on the field.

Stiles backed up.

Scott immediately froze realizing the effect he was having on his friend.

“I'm not going to hurt you.” Scott mumbled crumbling.

“No, I know that buddy.” Stiles tried to reassure him.

“I can smell your fear, and hear your heartbeat...” Scott confessed pitifully, plopping down on the bed again, shoulders slumped and head down.

Stiles swallowed and sat next to Scott on the bed, he wasn't trying to lie, he wanted to comfort his friend.

“Ok,” Stiles admitted. “I'm scared. You have some pointy claws and an orthodontist's dream grill going on so, yeah, I'm afraid. But you’re my best friend. I know- with a high degree of certainty, that you wouldn't hurt me, on purpose.”

Scott nodded and moved closer, like a timid puppy. Stiles hesitantly reached out sinking his hand into the soft curls. It felt like weird mix of fur and hair as he pet Scott slowly.

“We're good buddy, we're good.”

“Derek Hale is a werewolf huh?” Scott asked quietly.

“I know right? Derek Hale, I guess the whole Hale family was.”

“And you two are…?” Scott asked not sure what to label it.

Stiles hand stilled, he swallowed feeling his face grow hot.

“You’re something. I can feel your body temperature going up.” Scott observed pulling away from him to meet his eyes.

“Yeah, Scott, can you stop doing that? It's super invasive man. Don’t just scan me with your biological Sybil system.”

“I can't help it.” Scott grumbled. “It’s like I’m getting all these weird thoughts popping into my head, and I don’t know what they mean, but I do at the same time!”

“Ok, but you don't need to share it. Just pretend it didn't happen, like one of Finstocks' farts.”

Scott choked as he cough-laughed, and Stiles cracked up with him.

“Derek kinda freaked me out at the party. He was just standing there all creepy..."

Stiles smiled nodding, yeah, he could see that, when he’d first spotted him at Lydia’s party he thought he was some kind of weird grumpy-looking statue, or modern art sculpture.

"Yeah he does that... " Stiles conceded. "I think it's kind of cute."

Scott looked at him and rolled his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case your curious, the Sybil system is a mental health scan that they use to determine whether or not someone might be a criminal in the anime Psycho-Pass. I considered using an American film reference, the closest thing I could find was Minority Report, but I never saw it.  
> Stiles knows anime it's in my headcanon :3


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott needs to know when to ask for help.
> 
> Still following some canon events, deviations will be small until I get into the next part.  
> Also, hey, guess what? I don’t know anything about lacrosse so, blatant errors ahead (probably).
> 
> All the same enjoy <3

Stiles gnawed mercilessly on the pen cap poking out of his mouth. It was quiet in the library except for the muffled thump of his restless leg against the carpeted floor.

His eyes scanned the words of his calculus assignment, but nothing was making into his brain.

Everything was fine.

On the surface. Everything was perfect.

Scott was first line just like he wanted. Allison had given him a second chance and they were officially a _thing._ And there hadn’t been any more attacks on wildlife.

On the flipside, Scott was first line but he still didn’t have control. He’d seen his eyes flash golden more times than he felt comfortable with. And yes, he and Allison were a couple. As it turned out: Allison’s dad, was one of the crazy hunter dudes that had chased him through the preserve.

And also, there hadn’t been anymore wildlife attacks because the rouge wolf had moved on to bigger prey: PEOPLE!

The pen cap fell out of his mouth and went tumbling off the table. He groaned dropping his head on the table top.

He’d hoped Scott would take his advice and meet with Derek, take the offered paw and learn how to be a werewolf from a born werewolf, but no.

No clue where this stupid macho, I-can-do-it-on-my-own mentality had come from. It was very unlike Scott.

He was left in the annoying position of the go-between, relaying questions and advice. He was extremely thankful that Derek had been forthcoming with werewolf information. He could check the stuff he found online against a real, firsthand werewolf source.

If their continued existence didn’t hinge on them remaining a myth, he was sure he could’ve gotten a PhD on what he’d learned about werewolf so far.

He turned his head, cheek squished against the table. His free period was almost over. School was almost out and practice was next.

That was a bit of a bright spot. He’d even started to get some real field time, at practice. After Scott checked Jackson so hard he needed to get cleared by a doctor before Finstock would let him return to play.

He exhaled.

“ _When the snows fall and the wind blows, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives._ ” Stiles mumbled.

Derek didn’t press it, Laura didn’t say anything; but they wanted Scott to join their pack. He’d looked up the files on the Hale fire. At the time the reports indicated, that besides two children that had been at school at the time of the fire. There had only been one male survivor, who still lingered in hospice care in a coma.

To him it seemed like the smartest, safest bet. So, Scott’s reluctance seemed insane. Then again he might be biased.

His phone buzzed and he flipped it open, his heart sank.

“ _Sorry, can’t make it._ ” Stiles grumbled reading Derek’s text out loud. He huffed again. He wasn’t mad, chances were he wasn’t really going to get to play, so he wasn’t really missing anything.

But still he’d hoped to see him, since they’d parted at the preserve their only contact had been through text.

They hadn’t made any progress with the wolf, who was now even targeting people, it’d killed a jogger just the other day.

He picked himself up off the table and gathered his stuff into his backpack.

He’d been doing his own snooping, even though the police database wasn’t designed to take supernatural incidents they still ended up being recorded, you just had to know what to look for.

And Stiles knew where to look.

* * *

 

Stiles sprinted onto the field as stealthily as he could in full gear, it looked like they were just finishing one on one drills.

He’d had to hang back, when he’d spotted his dad talking to the principal. Only just managing to catch the end of the conversation: BHPD was instituting a curfew until the wild animal was caught.

“What I’d miss?” Stiles asked, jogging over to Scott, who was doubled over catching his breath.

“I think they’re trying to kill me.” Scott panted, groaning as he straightened himself up.

He glanced over at the other players, who seemed to be eyeing them.

“I could see that.” Stiles replied, with a nod.

“Why?” Scott barked. “Were on the same team,”

Stiles caught the glare leveled at him from number 8, Edgar Sanchez. Upperclassman and part of Jackson Whitmore’s guard.

“Hey buddy, remember when you checked Jackson so hard he had to go to the hospital?”

“Yeah…”

“Well…” Stiles murmured putting a gloved hand on Scott’s shoulder, he winced. “That dude was kind of like their king…”

Scott growled.

“McCall! You’re first! We’re gonna run a two-man defense line alright? Greenburg, Sanchez, get out there!”

Scott nodded as he jogged to the front of the line, Stiles made his way to the middle, standing off to the side to get a better view.

The three got into position, waiting for Finstock’s signal.

Stiles watched nervously, Scott seemed exhausted and little annoyed. The only other thing that got his pulse going was lacrosse.

Finstock blew his whistle.

Scott went charging forward, crashing into Greenburg with teeth chattering force as they pushed against each other, Greenburg’s cleats dragged against grass giving way. When suddenly, from his other side Sanchez crashed into him low, knocking him off his feet and sending backwards.

He crashed hard into the ground. Stiles flinched, sure he’d felt it too.

“Not bad Greenburg! You almost made me believe in you!” Fintstock barked as he walked over to Scott. “Sanchez keep it clean!”

“McCall,” He called leaning down. “You know the best way to play lacrosse?”

“No?” Scott groaned.

“It’s on your feet! Get up and go again!” He yelled.

Scott groaned as he got back on his feet.

Finstock moved off the field as they lined up again.

“Fix that helmet Greenburg! I can see your ugly mug!” Finstock shouted.

Stiles snickered, further down the line, as he watched them line up again.

This time Sanchez was taking the forward position, Scott lined up.

There seemed to be something different in his posture, that made him feel uneasy.

Finstock blew the whistle and the two charged headlong at each other.

Sanchez seemed shook by the impact.

Greenburg was still back having missed the whistle.

“Shit!” Stiles hissed. “Coach!”

Finstock looked at him annoyed as he pointed and motioned furiously in Greenburg’s direction.

But it was too late.

Stiles grabbed is head and it felt like he was watching it in slo-mo…

Scott pushed against Sanchez, and he had no choice but to stagger backwards. Scott growled and crashed into him again and Sanchez spun back, his stick thwacking Greenburg on the temple. Sanchez and Scott went tumbling to the ground and everyone on the field suddenly froze.

Greenburg stood a second dazed before crumpled to the ground like a paper doll.

“Scott!” Stiles cried as he rushed to his side. Arm around him as everyone went to check on Greenburg and Sanchez.

“I can’t control it! Stiles- It’s happening!” Scott growled.

“Wh-what? Right here? Now?” Stiles stammered glancing around, no one was looking at them.

“Come on, Get up,” He urged as he helped him to his feet and led him back towards the locker room.

“Come on, here we go.” Stiles mumbled as he half dragged him through the locker room door.

“Down, you okay? Scott, you okay?” Stiles insisted panicking, freaking out as he knelt in front of him.

“GET AWAY FROM ME!!” Scott roared and Stiles went scrambling backwards.

Yellow eyes and fangs behind the face mask, bright and dangerous as Scott came after him.

Stiles dove to the other side of the set of lockers. Scott jumped on top of the lockers and stalked him from above as he ran, trying to get away from his wolfed-out friend. Scott followed him snarling, perched on the support beams overhead. Stiles stumbled around the lockers, and over the bench; not taking his eyes off Scott as he stumbled towards the door.

He crashed into the fire extinguisher just as Scott turned towards him.

He bit the finger of his right glove and yanked it free as Scott jumped down roaring menacingly at him.

He turned and tore the fire extinguisher off the wall, and pulled the pin free with his ungloved hand; thankful for that time he’d “accidently” set off the fire extinguisher at the police station when he was 10.

He took the nozzle in his gloved hand and squeezed the metal handle, frantically spraying the oncoming werewolf.

Scott roared and swatted at the white mist unable to get clear as Stiles stumbled backwards into the hall, spraying him until the extinguisher went dead.

Stiles stood, back against the wall, chest heaving, mind racing; clutching the near empty extinguisher to his chest.

He couldn’t leave Scott in the locker room, he’d most certainly be a danger. Maybe he could lure him out, but then there was a chance he couldn’t keep him contained. He bounced the extinguisher in his grip. Even near empty it was heavy, if he really needed to, he could try to knock Scott out. He swallowed nervously, eyes scanning the empty hallway. There was a high probability that might just make it worse, but he needed to do _something_!

“Stiles?” A raspy voice called from the locker room. Stiles turned to the open door. Cautiously he scooted closer to peek inside.

Scott was back to normal, dazed, sweaty, but otherwise non-werewolf Scott.

“What happened?” He asked groggily looking up at him.

Stiles sighed heavy and dropped the extinguisher from his grasp as he stepped back into the locker room, taking off his other glove.

“There was a fire.” He replied with a huff, Scott looked at him surprised.

“No you idiot werewolf! You tried to kill me!” He yelled flabbergasted chucking his glove at Scott.

Scott dodged the glove and looked pitiable as Stiles knelt in front of him.

“It’s like I told you before.” Stiles began. “It’s the anger, it’s your pulse rising. It’s a trigger.”

“But that’s lacrosse.” Scott reasoned. “It’s a pretty violent game, if you haven’t noticed.”

“Well, it’s gonna be a lot more violent if you go all _Mortal Kombat_ on someone on the field.” Stiles explained with a heavy sigh, his heart still beating franticly. “You can’t play Saturday. You’re gonna have to get out of the game.”

“But I’m first line.” Scott insisted.

“Not if you can’t get it under control.”

Scott nodded dejectedly, Stiles felt relieved.

“I _wanna_ get it under control.” Scott murmured resolutely.

“That means we gotta see Derek, you okay with that?” Stiles asked watching his reaction. Scott still distrusted Derek. Scott had to still believe Derek had some hand in him getting bitten.

“Alright,” He grumbled. “We’ll see Derek.”

“ _Today_.” Stiles added.

Scott looked at him, and exhaled nodding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you to all the people who gave their time to read this. I didn't think it'd get some many hits. (0_0)  
> I apologize but, I'm gonna be honest, I got lazy when I hit a writers block and decided to take a bit of a break... This wasn't the only story that suffer this fate.  
> However, I do intend to complete them. And I will do my best to not take anymore long breaks.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a small update.  
> The pack* assembles!
> 
> (*sort of)

Derek was already standing outside the Hale house when they pulled up. Henley taut across his chest with the sleeves rolled up; his mouth fell open.

Scott snickered in the passenger seat.

“What!?” Stiles yelped, prying his eyes off Derek to look at his best friend.

“Nothing.” Scott replied trying to wipe the smile off his face.

Stiles cocked his head and narrowed his eyes at him.

Scott looked at him trying really hard not to smile.

“Remember how _I_ can sense some private things about you…?” Scott began through a wide grin. “Well, I’m pretty sure so can Derek…”

Stiles’ eyes bulged and he snapped his head in Derek’s direction, he was smiling at him very conspicuously.

“Oh, God!” He choked dropping his head on the steering wheel, unable to lift his head.

“It’s okay, buddy.” Scott comforted putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure it doesn’t affect what he thinks of you one bit.”

“Stop,” Stiles cried ears burning. “You’re not helping. You’re making it worse in fact. Just give me a minute.”

After a minute the two climbed out of the jeep.

Stiles a ball of nervous energy, he really hoped things would go well, but he didn’t know what to expect.

He knew it could be tough to get dogs to get along, but he had to wonder if that wasn’t an insulting comparison.

Stiles walked ahead, Scott falling back as they approached Derek.

“Scott,” Stiles began his heart racing, he knew both wolves could plainly hear it, maybe even above his words. “This is Derek. Derek, Scott.”

They already kind of knew each other, but Stiles was hard pressed to try and fill the tense air with something, _anything_.

He didn’t have to be a wolf to feel the pressure, it seemed to the suck the air out of his lungs.

He turned to look at him and his heart slammed against his chest. Scott was in his wolf form. Coarse fur, furrowed brows, claws, and sharp teeth. Body a sharp line of tension. Stiles hesitated, stuck between them as he turned to Derek. To his relief he was not in wolf form.

“Scott,” Derek spoke, voice low not moving. “I know you’re not doing it on purpose. I need you to know that. It's instinct.”

Scott growled.

Stiles’ heart jumped and Derek’s eyes darted to him. He knew Derek was mindful of the spot Stiles was in.

“I can help Scott, I can help you find control.”

Derek’s eyes shifted to Stiles again.

Scott shuffled hunching over. Suddenly, he lunged.

Derek grabbed Stiles' arm and jerked him sideways sending him reeling to ground as Derek slammed into wolfed-out Scott sending him staggering backwards.

Stiles scrambled to his knees, but froze: there was nothing he could do.

Scott snarled. Golden eyes focused on Derek, ready to kill.

Scott and Derek grappled in front of him, Scott a snarling, snapping horror as Derek just stood holding him back.

Face expressionless.

He was terrified that Scott could hurt Derek, and equally terrified that Derek might _have to_ hurt Scott.

Suddenly a loud resounding howl broke across the scene. Stiles could swear his heart stopped, the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck prickled.

The two broke away, Derek kneeled and Scott stood scanning the area caught between fleeing and fighting.

Stiles turned and spied her emerging from the Hale house.

The sharp expression on her face shifted with recognition, as a smile snaked across her crimson lips.

"You're the pup my brother's been keeping from me... "

Her heels clicked on the steps as she came to stand before them.

Derek rose to his feet and retreated from her, grasping Stiles by his hoodie and pulling him up.

Scott seemed to shrink in front of her, making his body small and dropping his eyes to the ground. He shuffled back, but she stepped right into his space. Scott growled, low, pitiably.

The she-wolf tilted her head, and stepped right into him daring him and his growl went silent.  
She leaned into him, and scented him.

Scott growled, and she checked him, slamming into him teeth bared in a frightening grin. Eyes a blazing red.

Scott conceded, and she backed off.

"Little beta," She grinned. "You know who I am..."

"Alpha... " Scott ground out through sharp, clenched teeth.

"That's right." She sighed, as she raised her hand, Scott flinched, but she only pet his curly mop top. "I owe you a thank you, of sorts..."

Scott looked at her, yellow eyes surprised, the wolf features having ebbed.

"The rouge who bit you, was after me. If it hadn't been for your crappy timing, I would probably be dead." She explained kindly; caressing his cheek, erasing the last of the wolf from his features. "I know you didn't ask for this, and I know it is a hard thing to see as a gift, but I hope you can come to understand us and all you can be. We are more than the stories say we are."

Scott swallowed nervously.

"Can I undo it? Go back?" Scott asked woeful eyes glossy. Laura pouted sympathetically. "You know, if I kill the werewolf who bit me?"

"Oh puppy... We're werewolves not vampires, it doesn't work that way." She explained. "We're terminal."

Scott bowed his head, and gave a stiff nod.

"But," she called drawing his eyes back up to her. "We can get close... I can at least help you get the head of the wolf that bit you."

Scott nodded.

"What do I need to do? "

She smiled a pleasantly predatory grin.

"I only ask that you join my pack."

Stiles beamed, it seemed like the best possible outcome for Scott, but for some reason it seemed like he was being asked to swallow hot coals.

"That's a great deal! You could learn how to be a proper wolf!"

Scott nodded glumly. 

"No, yeah, I get it." He raised his eyes to meet hers again.

"It's an honor you know." Derek spoke up for the first time. "The Hale pack is a very old line of werewolves."

"So," Stiles began nudging next to Derek. "She's the Boss wolf?"

Derek nodded, eyes locked on the exchange between his alpha and this unknown wolf.

“I’ll join-” Scott began.

“Until we kill that wolf?” She asked, Scott swallowed nervously but nodded. “Very well, I hope that you will want to stay with us when the time comes, but I will accept you regardless.”

Stiles was beaming, when he glanced over to sour expression on Derek’s face.

“What’s the problem?”

Derek just shook his head as he approached the two, Stiles followed.

“My brother will be your mentor. Hale house, even though it’s not much to look at right now is open to you and yours.” She offered smiling, glancing from Scott to Stiles.

“Let’s get started.” Derek growled.

Stiles’ jaw dropped at the sight; Derek drew the shirt over his head his features sharpened by his wolf form. Brows furrowed over ice blue eyes, and a grin full of sharp teeth.

Laura giggled giddily.

Derek broke into a dash disappearing into the preserve as Scott chased after him.

“Now, we’re getting somewhere!” She smirked.

Stiles looked at her, the two left standing there.

“Come with me,” Laura called extending her hand. “I hear you’re the brains.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little pack time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this is just kind of a filler chapter ;__;

Stiles couldn’t help but stare.

She was a thing of unparalleled beauty, sure his jeep had gotten him through almost anything. Tried and true, but damn if the Camaro wasn’t gorgeous.

So was its driver.

Their days had turned into an interesting rotation, school, practice, wolf training, evil wolf hunting, and occasional dates (for Scott) or lacrosse games.

It was insane! But fun and exhausting, it almost felt like he was living at the Hale House; neither wolf seemed to mind having him around.

“You ready?” Laura asked past an armload of snacks.

“Oh, yeah,” Stiles stammered, she glanced out the convenience store window and smiled.

“You’re really into my brother aren’t you?”

Stiles blushed as he put the M&M bag back.

“Stiles, it’s a good thing.” She smiled. “But, pause it and admire him in the car.”

Stiles smiled as he scanned the candy bars again.

It was hard to take his eyes off him, as he peeked back up at him.

He froze as the red SUV pulled up in front of the car, another white SUV pulled up behind it. Pinning the Camaro. It seemed strange with other pumps available. Suddenly he realized he recognized it from school.

Allison’s father, the werewolf hunter.

“Shit,” he dashed outside without thinking the door chiming loudly behind him.

Despite his protests, Scott continued to see Allison. Both he and Derek had insisted that maybe dating the werewolf hunter’s daughter might not be the smartest idea. Yet neither had had the guts to tell Laura.

Chris Argent smiled at him as he came to sudden stop. Derek glanced at him, but quickly returned his eyes to the hunter.

“Starting at the shallow end of the recruiting pool are we?” Argent smirked, strolling towards Derek. Stiles’ jaw dropped, offended. “We’ve heard you and your sister returned to Beacon Hills with the intention of rebuilding the Hale pack. We’re not going to let that happen.”

“That’s not your decision.” Laura called as she closed the distance, like a wolf on a scent. Tilting her head up to glare at Argent.

The other men seemed nervous, checking their concealed weapons as Argent motioned for them to stand down. Chris smirked.

“We don't have to run anything by you. Hale predates Argent in Beacon Hills. Must I mention that when our family was burnt alive in our home, the Argent’s didn't lift a finger to help.  We weren't monsters, we were pups, _children_. Despite what your bloodline believes us to be. The Argent’s stepped aside and let a real monster walk away.”

Chris' eyes steeled.

“Make no mistake, we will have our justice. But for now, stay out of our way.”

“Excuse me if I don't believe your stance. A rouge wolf is a threat to everyone-”

“And _we_ will deal with it.” She replied her back to him. “This is Hale pack territory. No wolf occupies it without our say.”

Chris smirked, his jaw clenched taut. His eyes met Stiles’; faint recognition, but they hadn’t been officially introduced.

“You, kid, now's your chance.” Chris called over at Stiles. His eyes popped as he looked from Laura and Derek to the armed Argent contingent.

“No! No thanks, no offense, but I think I'm safer with the werewolves.”

Chris grinned bitterly amused as he turned back to the red SUV.

“You all have a safe night,” He paused turning over his shoulder. “And good hunting.”

None of them moved as Argent and his soldiers climbed back into the SUV’s and pulled out.

Laura rolled her neck popping it as she nudged her head towards the Camaro. Stiles nodded opening the door and climbing in first as she adjusted the seat and slipped into the passenger seat.

Derek got in and turned towards his Alpha.

“We need to find this wolf and end it.” Laura growled turning to her brother. “If this continues and more human bodies pile up, it will be all Argent needs to call reinforcements and instigate a mass genocide of every and any wolf pack here and in the surrounding counties.”

Derek nodded.

Stiles sighed, leaning back in the seat as they pulled out of the gas station.

Scott was on a date, one of the few times he was able to be normal. Stiles’ felt he’d earned it. Passing a particularly hard test at the hands of Derek: resisting his provocations for 10 minutes. It was progress when a snide remark form the older wolf had Scott growling under his breath.

But things were far from good.

Another human had been attacked; a bus driver at the school, he’d been found clinging to life in a shredded bus.

Scott had been mortified that he’d been the one who’d attacked him, but after some help from Laura, she’d ruled him out.

He’d volunteered to tag along with them on their hunt, but there was too much ground to cover. Going back to the bus hadn’t yielded any clues even with two wolf noses.

“Maybe we should try and see the bus driver?” Stiles suggested leaning forward. Laura glanced back at him.

“Brains and beauty,” She smiled. “You know how to pick them bro.”

Derek rolled his eyes and Stiles laughed dorkily.

“But we gotta get you home.” Laura replied.

“Really?” Stiles groaned.

“Your dad has the town on lockdown.” Derek replied glancing at his rearview mirror.

“Drop me at Scott’s.” Stiles sighed sliding back behind Laura. Derek glanced back at him. “Please?”

Derek shook his head and Laura smiled.

“No, I’m dropping you off at home and you’re staying there.”

“Fine,” Stiles sighed as he watched the streetlights drift by overhead. He wasn’t going to fight with him. Sure he’d stay home, just until the Camaro drove away, in which case he’d book it to Scott’s house.

“Question,” He called. “Not every wolf can turn someone into a werewolf right?”

“Hmm…” Laura murmured. “Typically it’s an Alpha, but, weird things have happened. Beta’s can become Alphas under the right conditions.”

Stiles nodded.

“Scott was bitten by an Alpha? It was what had scratched you…”

Stiles pondered that information.

“Do you need a pack?”

“You don’t _need_ a pack. But we’re pack animals.” Derek replied. “It’s family, it’s strength.”

Laura smiled proudly, glancing over at her brother.

* * *

 

Stiles scrambled up to the window, Scott usually left it open. He was still thinking about packs. Though small, Derek and Laura weren’t just family they were a pack. Was this other wolf alone? Was he trying to make a pack?

Stiles was pulling himself through the window rolling onto the bed, when he glimpsed the figure in the dark approaching him.

He screamed, stumbling back onto the bed as the figure screamed in front of him flailing.

“Stiles! What hell are you doing here!” Mrs. McCall cried.

“What am I doing here!?” He yelled. “God! Do either of you even play baseball!?”

 “What,” Mrs. McCall huffed. When the lights turned on. She turned to find Scott there.

“Can you please tell your friend to use the front door?” She asked with an exhausted sigh.

“But we lock the front door,” Scott replied. “He wouldn’t be able to get in.”

“Yeah exactly.” She replied. “And by the way, do either of you care that there is a police-enforced curfew?”

“No.” They both replied in unison.

“No? Alright then,” She sighed.

“Well you know what?” She asked tossing the bat on the bed. “That’s about enough parenting for me for one night, so goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Scott replied as his mother left.

Stiles sighed heavily, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“What?” Scott asked as he pulled the chair over.

“My dad left for the hospital 15 minutes ago. It’s the bus driver. They say he succumb to his wounds.”

“Succumb?”

“Scott, he’s dead.” Stiles clarified. He didn’t want to tell him that he’d recommended that Laura and Derek go see the bus driver. It had to be a coincidence, why would they kill the bus driver? He was a possible clue.

Scott’s face dropped.

“It felt like I did it…” Scott murmured. “Like I was the one attacking him…”

“But it wasn’t.” Stiles replied. “Laura said you’d tried to protect him.”

Scott nodded.

“These dreams scare me…” Scott confessed. “It feels like this thing is trying to crawl inside me. Make me do violent things, things I don’t want to do…”

Stiles nodded, putting his hand on Scott’s shoulder.

“Maybe there’s some kind of connection between you and this wolf?” Stiles concluded. “Maybe he wants you in his pack?”

“Why?”

“Derek said a pack was like family, _strength_. But what if it wasn’t a metaphor? What if having a pack _actually_ makes the Alpha stronger?”

“You mean it wants me?”

Stiles nodded.

“If I’m right, this other wolf, is or wants to be an Alpha like The Boss.” Stiles explained. “For that it needs you.”

“But I don’t even want to be a wolf…” Scott grumbled. “He’s the one who keeps calling me…”

“Then that’s it!” Stiles cried bouncing to his feet. “You’re the key! We use you to lure out this rouge wolf. If it’s true that he’s trying to lure you out to him, then we use that against _him_.”

Scott looked up at him.

“You know what I think?” Stiles murmured chewing on his thumbnail. “These aren’t random attacks… There’s a connection… I just don’t see it yet…”

“A jogger and a bus driver what could their connection be?” Scott murmured thoughtfully.

Stiles sighed sharply exhaling.

“I don’t know. But once we figure the connection out, I’m pretty flippin’ sure everything will make sense. This seems bigger than just a rouge wolf doesn’t it?”

Scott shrugged.

“For now we’re just going to keep patrolling.” Scott replied getting to his feet.

Stiles rolled his eyes, it was the werewolves’ go to plan: nose to the ground trying to sniff up some kind of clue.

“Are you going out again?”

“No…” Scott replied unconvincingly. Stiles spun on his heel and glared at his friend; he was a terrible liar.

It was a wonder he hadn’t already spilled the werewolf beans to Allison.

Scott fidgeted under his scrutinizing gaze, eyes flitting every which way, like he was watching a fly buzzing around Stiles’ head.

“Maybe…” He caved.

“If you go, you tell me.” Stiles ordered.

Scott looked at him, puppy-eyes conflicted.

“Say it Scott.”

“If I go, I’ll tell you.” Scott parroted back.

Stiles pouted crossing his arms, it wasn’t much but it was as much as he could hope to get. If he really wanted to keep the wolves from being out there on patrol he needed to figure the connection between the victims and the wolf; not just that but how it all connected to the Hales.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott broke his promise already...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I kind of like this chapter and the next one (working on it).  
> Some sweet Sterek moments <3  
> Let me know what you think. :3

“ _Stiles!_ ” Her voice sounded panicked.

“Laura, what’s wrong?”

“ _Have you or Scott seen Derek?_ ”

Stiles’ stomach flipped.

“No, we’ve been at school all day.”

“ _Shit,_ ” She hissed. “ _We split up to hunt last night, be he hasn’t come home._ ”

Stiles felt his heart speed up.

“There’s no practice today, tell me where he was supposed to be searching-”

“ _I’m there now._ ” She sighed. “ _Something went down. It smells like gunpowder._ ”

Stiles stomach dropped, he could feel his breathing quicken.

“ _Stiles,_ ” Laura called. “ _Stiles, slow down. I’m going to find him._ ”

“Ok,” He replied, still too unsteady. “I’m going to head to the Hale House.”

“ _Alright,_ ” She replied. “ _Let me know if he finds you first._ ”

Stiles nodded as he flipped his phone closed and clenched it in his fist. His heart beating a mile a minute. He felt short of breath as he weaved his way through the crowded hallway towards the front doors.

He jumped in the jeep and turned the ignition, he checked his mirrors and pulled out quickly, he ran a trembling hand over his scalp as someone suddenly appeared in front of him. He slammed the breaks and the jeep rocked violently.

Derek, stood in front of him arm raised as if to wave him down but he seemed completely dazed. His jaw dropped, he couldn't believe his eyes. He grabbed for his phone and then Derek collapsed.

The car behind him honked obnoxiously as he put the jeep in park and jumped out of the driver’s seat. Scott was rushing over to Derek.

He only just caught the last words, as the two fell quiet: _48 hours_.

“Derek!” Scott urged, eyes flashing blue, breathing ragged, face blanched as he glanced up at Stiles, he seemed to be running a fever. “Get up!”

“Dude!” Stiles called glancing about, curious onlookers gathering, drawn in by the impatient racket from the backed up cars as he knelt down helping to pull Derek to his feet. “Get him into the jeep.”

Scott nodded, taking Derek’s full weight as Stiles climbed into the driver’s seat.

“Get him out of here,” Scott urged closing the door to the jeep, securing Derek inside.

Stiles nodded shifting gears.

He spared a glance at him. He looked pale, feverish, like life was draining out of him, excruciatingly painfully.

“What happened?” Stiles cried glancing back at the road as he maneuvered out of the parking lot. “Did the rouge wolf do this?”

Derek shook his head.

Stiles got on to the road and took a right turn, not really sure where he was going.

“Then what, Derek tell me?”

“No,” He groaned. “We found him, we were following him when he attacked a woman. The _woman_ shot me. I told Scott to keep tracking him…”

 “Wait? Scott was there?” Stiles snapped glancing back at Derek. “He _knew_ you got shot and he left you!?”

Derek shook his head.

“I don’t think he knew I’d been shot until ten minutes ago…” Derek groaned trying to lean back into the seat.

Stiles’ glanced back at him, he looked crumpled up; he leaned back like he was trying to straighten his back, or work out a kink in his muscles.

“So you all went on this wolf hunt without so much as telling me!?” Stiles huffed clenching the steering wheel.

Derek was quiet. He could guess why they didn’t want to involve him. He wasn’t a werewolf, he might only slow them down or worse get in the way. But it didn’t sting any less.

“We didn’t want to worry you…” Derek groaned, trying to meet his eyes.

Stiles scoffed loudly, exaggeratedly. Refusing to look over at him, partly because he was mad, but also because seeing him like that, in pain- was heart wrenching.

“Well you failed! Both of you!” Stiles yelled, slamming his hand on the steering wheel. Chewing harshly on his lower lip, keeping whatever else he might want to add to himself.

Stiles glanced at him, before he refocused on the road.

“Laura’s worried about you, did she know?” Stiles asked rummaging in his jacket pocket for his phone. “I gotta call her. We gotta get you to Hale House.”

“No.” Derek wheezed.

“No!?” Stiles yelped turning to look at him. “Why not!?”

“I gotta fix this…” He groaned meeting his eyes. “Scott’s gonna get the bullet.”

Stiles looked at him, and exhaled a sharp breath shaking his head.

“I’m calling Laura.” Stiles replied glancing in his rearview mirror before pulling off onto the side of the road and parking the jeep abruptly.

He winced realizing how violently he’d rattled the injured werewolf.

Stiles pulled her number up on his phone and dialed, he glanced over at him again. Right hand tapping on the steering wheel as he glanced at the sparse traffic on the road.

“Please,” Derek sighed reaching over to place his uninjured right hand over his. “Don’t tell her.”

Stiles swallowed, glancing down at the pale, trembling hand that covered his. He turned to meet his eyes.

“I’m supposed to protect her…” He murmured, he looked dazed like he was about to pass out. His hand slipping off.

“ _Stiles?_ ” Laura’s voice called into his ear. “ _Did you hear from him?_ ”

“Hey, Boss…” Stiles paused, wondering how good their werewolf senses worked over the phone. “Yeah, I did.”

He looked at Derek’s pale face, temple beaded in sweat.

Laura gave a soft sigh, relieved.

“ _Is he alright? What happened?_ ”

Stiles swallowed the knot in his throat, focusing on a point in the distance.

“Just a tussle in the urban jungle,” Stiles squinted, trying to sound cheerful. “Nothing to worry about.”

“ _That ass,_ ” Laura huffed. “ _Alright then, I’m paying some family a visit. Tell that jerk to call me himself._ ”

“Sure thing Boss.” Stiles replied, the smile on his face fading. “Later.”

He flipped the phone closed and glanced over at Derek.

“Pack.” He murmured. “Family…”

Derek opened his eyes to meet his, just barely.

“It’s not a lie.” Derek murmured.

“Sure felt like one…” Stiles replied turning to fully face him. “Derek tell me how to help, you smell like death.”

Derek cracked a smile, eyes flashing blue.

“We’ve got time.” Derek sighed eyes fluttering closed. “Scott’s just gotta get the bullet.”

Stiles’ hissed rubbing his hands over his scalp, cellphone still clutched in his hand.

“Scott. I’ll text Scott.” He yelped typing the message out quickly.

Then silence, he wanted answers from the werewolf, simultaneously he didn’t want to pressure him. But the suffocating silence in the car was too much.

“What happened? What did you get shot with?” Stiles questioned finally, at the end of his out-of-the-loop rope.

“Argent’s aren’t just any hunters. They’ve been doing it for generations…” Derek groaned pulling his jacket off. “The bullet she used was laced with something, I need Scott to retrieve its brother so I can counter its effects.”

Stiles glanced at him, the smell of sweet flowers and black blood flooded the cabin of the jeep and his stomach felt like it shriveled up. He covered his face with his hands, averting his eyes. He shifted over and cranked the window down to get some reprieve from the smell.

“Wait, Allison did this to you?” Stiles asked eyes wide, twisting to face him.

Derek shook his head, dropping his head back against the headrest.

Stiles swiped at his face roughly, it didn’t seem he was going to be more forthcoming with the identity of this female Argent shooter.

“How bad is this? What happens if Scott can’t find your magic bullet?” Stiles asked voice wavering, changing the subject to the more pressing issue. “Are you- are you dying?”

“Not yet,” Derek huffed. “I have a last resort.”

“What last resort!?” Stiles blurted out, body shaking.

Derek turned to meet his eyes. He didn’t need his werewolf senses to read the boy. He was terrified, panicking, body shaking like a leaf. Reacting with anger to poorly cover for how tears were one more piece of bad news from falling down his cheeks.

“I’m not dying from this.” Derek replied. “Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid!” Stiles snapped turning from the wolf, eyes forward watching the empty, dusking road.

“I can’t take you to the Hale House, I can’t take you home…” Stiles rattled more to himself. “Hospital is so obviously out of the question! What am I supposed to do!? How am I supposed to help!?”

Stiles was practically vibrating with his hysterical panic, mind racing to find a solution.

“You’re helping.” Derek replied. “Here is fine. With you.”

Derek heard Stiles’ heart jump in that familiar comforting manner; like it did when he said something just right. He really wasn’t used to hearing those little truths, and that was a pity.

“Don’t you dare try to be flirty with me!” Stiles squeaked, cheeks red.

Derek smiled, seeing it made the pain a little more bearable.

“You’re mad?” He asked with a grin.

“Hell no I’m not!” Stiles blatantly lied.

Derek laughed the force of it aching his sore muscles, Stiles immediately looked over at him concerned.

“Don’t worry, I’m alright.” Derek murmured.

“I’m not worried either!” Stiles squawked again, voice too loud for the two of them in jeep, Derek flinched and Stiles froze suddenly remembering the gravity of their situation.

“I’m mad, I’m afraid, I feel guilty, I freaking the hell out Derek. And yes, I’m extraordinarily worried!!” Stiles confessed, tears glossing over his caramel eyes. “You guys didn’t tell me anything. You left me out of it, and on top of it you got hurt… And also, how dare you use my best friend as bait without me!”

Derek smirked head resting against the glass.

“Next time, I’ll be sure run it by you…” Derek grumbled tiredly.

“Well, you know it’s the least you could do… I am a member of the pack-” He stopped, he wasn’t really sure if he was. He didn’t contribute anything really. “Am I?”

Derek shifted away from the door to face Stiles properly, Stiles hesitantly turned to face him.

“I want you to be a part of my pack.” Derek huffed eyes heavy and breath labored, Stiles knew he was in terrible shape; but that he was making the effort to comfort made his heart skip.

Stiles opened his mouth to speak when suddenly his phone rang, Stiles pursed his lips at the ill, yet perfect timing of his best friend as he answered the phone.

“Talk to me,” He replied briskly. “What am I supposed to do with him?”

“ _Take him to the animal clinic._ ” Scott replied.

“What about your boss?” Stiles asked not sure how to feel about that. Still it would have medical equipment, should they need it, even if they didn’t know how to use any of it. And it was as safe a space as they could luck into.

“ _He’s gone by now, there’s a spare key in the box behind the dumpster._ ”

 “You’re not going to believe where he’s telling me to take you…” Stiles murmured handing the phone over to Derek. He turned the headlights on; the sun had sunk behind the mountains fast.

“Did you find it?” Derek called into the phone as Stiles got back on the road, having to pull a U-turn to head to the animal clinic.

“ _How am I supposed to find one bullet? They have a million. This house is like a frickin’ Walmart of guns._ ” He could hear Scott complain through the small speaker.

“Look if you don’t find it, then I’m dead.” Stiles glanced at Derek, he did not appreciate the werewolf’s use of hyperbole in this situation. Partially because it could very well- he stopped himself, he couldn’t finish that thought.

“ _I’m starting to think that wouldn’t be such a bad thing._ ” Scott replied over the line.

His heart broke a little, this wasn’t new, in fact this was ridiculously typical back and forth between the two wolves. That even at this time, they continued to bicker would be comforting if it weren’t for the ever present thought that this was really, so for reals SERIOUS!!!

“Then think about this,” Derek called shifting into a sitting position with (temporarily) renewed vigor. “The Alpha calls you out against your will. And he’s going to do it again. Next time you either kill with him or you get killed. So if you want to stay alive then you need me. **Find the bullet**.”

With that he ended the call and they drove the rest of the way in uneasy silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously!? 10024+ hits!?  
> I didn't think I'd get 2 much less that number!!
> 
> Thank you for everyone who took the time to give this a read <3


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